GOD's ACRE MEMORIAL (1895), Newry, Oconee County, SC
A.K.A. Graveyard Hill
Version 2.2, 24-Oct-2005, C020.TXT, C20
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Paul M Kankula - nn8nn
Seneca, SC, USA
Oconee County SC GenWeb Coordinator
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DATAFILE INPUT . : Paul M. Kankula at (visit above website) in Apr-2002
G.P.S. MAPPING . : Gary Flynn at (visit above website) in Apr-2002
HISTORY WRITE-UP : Paul M. Kankula at (visit above website) in Apr-2002
Dede Norungolo in Mar-2005
John L. Gaillard
IMAGES ......... : Paul M. Kankula at (visit above website) in Apr-2002
TRANSCRIPTION .. : Gary Flynn at (visit above website) in Apr-2002
CEMETERY LOCATION:
------------------
Locate the intersection of Highways 123 & 130.
Drive 1.1 miles north on Highway 130.
Turn right on Old Clemson Highway and drive 0.1 miles.
Turn left on Newry Road (SR 37-203).
Drive 1.8 miles to Sub Station Road. (This road is like a letter J)
Park at intersection and walk several hundred feet on Sub Station Road.
You should see a 4' wide path leading up a 515' high hill.
Scattered graves are located at the top of this hill.
Latitude N 34 43.309 x Longitude W 83 54.437
CHURCH/CEMETERY HISTORY:
------------------------
This community cemetery was established in approximately 1895.
It is said that a small pox epidemic took the lives of many children in the late
1800's.
Three out of four graves appear to be that of children.
o----------o
CEMETERY SERVES AS REMINDER OF 'SELF-CONTAINMENT'
By DEDE NORUNGOLO. March-2005
Special to the Daily Journal / Daily Messenger
NEWRY - Imagine an entire community constructed for the sole purpose of reaping
the rewards of a new industry. Imagine living in a village where the need to
leave the community is rare because all basic needs could be met within walking
distance from home.
Established in 1893, the village of Newry was this Utopian society where workers
were employed by the Courtenay Manufacturing Company and provided housing by the
textile firm. The then-idyllic neighborhood, which was founder by William
Ashmead Courtenay, who named the region after his ancestral home in Ireland,
became home to former farmers and others seeking the promise of a new way of
life.
For Newry native Lori McJunkin, 33, the village continues to be a central part
of her life despite the fact she resides in Walhalla now. Her maiden name,
Green, resonates in the still somewhat self-contained community of Seneca near
Clemson.
"When I come to the 'hills,' I can visit all my family," McJunkin said, pointing
to the homes of her "granny," mother and aunt. She also said her sister resides
in Newry, not far from her mom's home. "I was born in '71... we went into the
mill when I was very little and ran all over the place, all over these hills. I
knew everybody and never got bored."
With her daughter, Carrie, McJunkin is quick to accept the quest of locating the
community cemetery, which was reportedly established' in 1895. McJunkin recalled
first coming up on the tombstones years ago as a child, scouring a hillside not
far from the mill.
After an uphill climb through quite a bit of trees, markers dating back to the
early 1800s come into view, scattered like quartz rocks strewn over the ground.
"Loggers were up here and destroyed many of the tombstones," said McJunkin as
she searched for a distinctive marker she can never forget. The marker bears a
three-dimensional rose draping down from the top of the headstone for the infant
son of Mr. and Mrs. J.B. Norton, who was born and died the same day in 1906.
For her teenage daughter, the hillside search provided her an opportunity to
become a historian of sorts, as she read information dating back more than 200
years about children who never got to enjoy the safe streets of Newry. According
to historical accounts, a smallpox epidemic killed many of the village's chil-
dren in the late 1800s. Information obtained at the Oconee Heritage Center in
Walhalla indicates there was a smallpox outbreak in 1910 and in 1918 Newry was
faced with an influenza outbreak.
Not only have logging efforts damaged the cemetery, but trees ravaged by
Southern Pine Beetles fail to protect the remaining visible tombstones.
GenWeb Tombstone Project documents state that "three out of four graves
appear to be that of children" and as many as 30 sites are marked with field
stones.
Two cemeteries are listed as existing in Newry - God's Acre/Graveyard Hill
Cemetery and the Newry Memorial Garden, also known as the Courtenay Memorial
Garden.
This information was made available online through the Oconee County S.C. GenWeb
Tombstone Project.
o----------o
A Brief History of Courtenay Manufacturing Co. and the Village of Newry
by: John L. Gaillard, Box 113, Newry, SC 29665
December, 1994
I think I would be amiss to write a history of any town that was not, and
suddenly became one, in one year, without recognizing the founders and the
driving events that led to its existence. Anything that exists has a determined
connection, and Newry's began in Charleston, SC. after a certain family, named
Courtenay, chose to immigrate to America in 1791. They came from a small town
called Newry on the Clanrye River in Northern Ireland. Mr. Edward Courtenay and
his wife had several children, one of whom, William, born in 1831, eventua1Iy
became the founding father of this little town called Newry. After his formal
education,
William Courtenay became a book seller and publisher in Charleston. He later
became the Head of the Business Department of The Charleston Mercury Newspaper.
William Courtenay joined the militia in Charleston County early on, and as a
result, was called to the defense of The Confederacy at the very beginning of
the Civil War. He saw action both in Virginia and South Carolina. However with
the fall of The Confederacy, he had nothing left but faith and hope. General
Sherman had destroyed most of the railroads, further delaying the South's
recovery. So Mr. Courtenay seized the first opportunity that came his way, which
was carting raw cotton between Newberry and Orangeburg, SC. From this base he
began his upward climb.
In 1865, William Courtenay started a shipping business in Charleston. This
business grew and soon had freight moving to the main ports in the Northeast and
also overseas. From this venture he procured enough capital to expand beyond
his shipping interests.
Mr. Courtenay entered the political arena and was elected Mayor of Charleston in
1879. He was reelected in 1883, and during his second term, was faced with the
tremendous challenge of restoring the city to normalcy after the deadly
earthquake of 1886. This tragedy caused the deaths of twenty-seven people,
inflicted many injuries and wreaked much property damage within the city. With
his, and other citizens' judicious efforts, the city soon recovered.
Mr. Courtenay later was instrumental in influencing the State Legislature to
establish the State Historical Commission, which has served the citizens of
South Carolina well for many years.
After his two terms as mayor of Charleston, Mr. Courtenay was ready to accept a
new challenge. His experience in the shipping business made him acutely aware of
the advantage of having the manufacturing process as close as possible to the
raw product, hence, the idea of a textile manufacturing plant was born. He was
as well aware of the topographical requirements of such a large undertaking.
Taking this into account, he selected the Piedmont section of South Carolina
and narrowed his choice to Oconee County with its untapped water resources
flowing unhindered out of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Among other criteria he
considered was the expanding rural population with its eagerness for "real pay"
and more favorable living conditions. He knew that a new, clean village with
more conveniences and steady pay would draw the sharecroppers like iron to a
magnet. The land was available, the site was selected and the dream evolved as a
reality.
On Apri1 21, 1893, Captain William A Courtenay. Frances J. Pelzer, William B.
Whaley, R. C. Rhett, W. B. S. Hayward, and John C. Carey filed with the
Secretary of State, J. E. Tindale, a petition that they be commissioned to
form a corporation and this was immediately granted. This new corporation was
issued a license to manufacture all goods of every kind pertaining to textiles-
cotton, wool, and other fibers. They were permitted to perform spinning,
weaving. dyeing, finishing, and the selling of all goods manufactured. An
allowance to grind and mill wheat, corn and other grains, along with the making
of any tools and materials deemed necessary to the construction and
manufacturing process was granted. This allowance included the clearing, sawing.
and finishing of timber prevalent at the site of the new village and attendant
property. The charter became the birth certificate of a factory, a village, and
a community that was destined to mold the lives of thousands of individuals for
almost one hundred years.
So the construction of the Courtenay Manufacturing Company began in 1893. Two or
three seasoned construction engineers had been brought in to oversee the
project. Ground was being leveled, virgin pine and oak timber was falling
and brick was being kilned, and all things directed toward the fruition of a
dream were moving expeditiously. The cooperation of management and labor, along
with a ready source of materials from a pristine wilderness, much like the
Cherokee had left it, was becoming a factory and a village.
The mill dam on Little River was completed, the head and tail races finished,
and the water wheels installed. Anticipating the installation of all the
pertinent machinery. The engineers primed and activated the water wheels on
June 14. 1894. With a large quantity of cotton on hand, many laborious hours
were given to the completion of the spur railroad. A steam locomotive, later to
be affectionately called "The Dummy" by the locals, was furnished by the R & D
Railway Company.
The village was slowly taking on the character of a small town. Four eight-room
houses had been built along with forty-seven six-room ones. Most were of the
salt box design. Others would be built soon, along with a boarding house.
Necessary out buildings were finished. A mill office was constructed, as well as
the company store with a large meeting hall above and a storage building behind.
Pastures were cleared, and barns were built. A village "calaboose" was erected,
and a town constable was hired. All diverse elements of the village construction
were speedily taking form. Soon, a schoolhouse, a church, a post office, and a
barber shop would be built. The cotton gin was being erected to accommodate the
local farmers and afford the plant a ready supply of cotton without the added
cost of freight.
The employees were growing in number, and some were already moving into the new,
comfortable houses, soon to be equipped with electricity and a water flowing
sewer system. Teachers, hired for the new grammar school would teach in the
community hall while the new schoolhouse was being built.
The main road, of course, had already been prepared and was in constant use. Mr.
John Boggs and a Mr. Kelly were in charge of setting out elm trees on both sides
of Main Street. These trees would grow to a majestic, uniform height, adding
much comfort and beauty to the village.
Wells were dug and installed with iron hand pumps, but in short time, were
replaced with a modem pump driven water system supplying household water and
water for the sewer system. This was a tremendous improvement for the benefit
of the employees in those early years.
The company store, a village "gem" itself afforded the inhabitants a ready
source of almost all their needs. If one were asked what goods were available,
the answer was "Everything". With everything now in place, a unified symbiotic
relationship was agreed upon between the management and the employees.
Therefore, the new factory in the backwoods and the residents of the village of
Newry became one in effort and purpose. The factory began its initial production
in September, 1884 and even though it changed owners three or four times, it
maintained steady production until May, 1975, a period of eighty-one years.
In the early years of operation, a goodly number of setbacks were experienced,
causing major drops in production. Several droughts occurred, reducing the water
flow through the races and depleting the effectiveness of the water wheels. But
on several occasions the setbacks were caused by too much water. Early in June,
1903, a late spring freshet of enormous proportion fell on the mountains and
Piedmont of South Carolina, resulting in a flood of such magnitude that was
before unheard of in this part of the country. The Courtenay Plant, as most all
textile plants were, was located adjacent to the river. This resulted in a major
inundation of the lower levels of the plant. The water stood nine and one-
half feet in the lower weave room. The warehouse was washed from its foundation,
and bales of cotton water-born downstream. Three village houses, distinctly of a
lower elevation than the village proper, were victims of the flood. The
tenacious efforts of management and labor soon overcame this historic calamity.
Over the years high water was an occasional problem, but nothing of this
magnitude would recur. Although in 1915, nature's unpredictable forces would
try again, the damage was nowhere near that of 1903. Among other setbacks beyond
Management's control and affecting plant production was an outbreak of small pox
in 1910. This deadly disease was kept in check by bringing in some experts in
this field from other areas of the state and country. The records state that
with the exception of about one hundred residents, all were vaccinated with a
total of almost eight hundred having participated. Another health assault, more
devastating to the community than the small pox outbreak, was the widespread
influenza epidemic of 1918. This scourge caused numerous deaths and much
suffering. From a population of nine hundred, seven hundred were stricken; one
can only imagine what a deplorable effect this bad on the production of the
plant. Nevertheless this adversity was overcome, as were the others. In earlier
years, Mr. William Courtenay developed medical problems and consequently moved
to Columbia. SC., where he died in 1908. The Board of Directors appointed Mr.
Campbell Courtenay president of the plant, a position he held until it became
necessary to sell the plant in April 1920. The transaction to sell Courtenay
Manufacturing was executed forthrightly, with the chief stockholders being Mr.
J. W. Cannon Sr., Mr. W. L. Gassaway, and Mr. Ralph Ramseur. Mr. Cannon and Mr.
Gassaway were the chief Operators of Issaquenna Mill of Central, SC. On July 29.
1920, at a meeting of the Board of Directors, the following officers
representing the new owners were duly elected: Mr. W.L. Gassaway as President
and Treasurer, Mr. Ralph Ramseur as vice-president and Assistant Treasurer, and
Mr. V.Q. Gregory as Secretary. Mr. James M. Alexander, the plant Superintendent,
remained in that position. With the addition of two new Board members,
identified as Mr. J. W. Norwood of Greenville, SC. and Mr. F. J. Haywood of
Kannapolis. N. C., the inner operation of Courtenay Manufacturing began to take
on a new direction. These changes were concomitant with the Great Stock Market
Crash of 1929, leaving one to wonder whether or not a connection existed.
In December, 1929, Mr. W. L. Gassaway tendered his resignation as acting
President and Treasurer with Mr. Ralph Ramseur being elected in his stead. At
this time the "Great Depression" was in full sway, and curtailing and shutdowns
were evident throughout the textile industry. The Newry citizens were compelled
to exist on a bare minimum budget. Union organizers from the North flocked South
to organize the mill workers, but without much success at Newry. Although the
residents of Newly seemed to be always loyal to the management and owners, the
organizers caused much unrest and lasting animosities in some of the mill
villages.
With the National Recovery Act, the Wage and Hour Law, the implementation of
three eight-hour shifts, and other FDR programs, the textile industry began to
slowly emerge from the Depression. The people of Newry began to have
greater hope for continued employment, while all these programs were being
implemented. Even so, most of the individually owned plants had a nip and tuck
existence throughout the rest of the 1930's.
On February 9, 1934, the Cannon Mill Interest of Kannapolis, North Carolina
purchased the Courtenay Plant with all additional properties. Because of a
depressed textile market and a perceived lack of demand for goods woven on the
narrow 'E model' looms, Cannon opted to liquidate the plant on March 19, 1939.
Operations were halted at the plant, and it, along with its properties, was
offered for sale. This portended bad times for the employees and citizens of
Newry. While some employees sought employment at other plants, most remained,
hoping for a new owner. And soon their hopes and prayers were answered by the
Abney Mills Group of Greenwood, South Carolina, which purchased the plant, the
village, and hundreds of acres of the surrounding properties. Having a plan to
upgrade all obsolete machinery, the progressive Abney chain began ordering the
latest spinning equipment available and initiating a complete overhaul of the
weave room machinery. The owners eventually had all departments moving at top
speed, while turning out a quality textile product. The Management was well
pleased, and the inhabitants of Newry were even more pleased.
Because of Abney's effort and dedication to purpose, the employees felt more
secure than ever.
The start of World War Two brought about an inflated demand for all textile
products, and so the Courtenay Plant operated at breakneck speed to fulfill all
orders. This pace of supplying the needs of American and Allied industry
lasted until the later months of 1946, but the good market demand actually did
not end until the recession of the early 1950's. These years marked the genesis
onslaught of foreign imports, and by the 1980's, the on-going appeasement
policy of Washington would almost guarantee a decimation into the textile
industry of such a gravity the South had never known before.
But at least in the mid 1940's and throughout the 1950's, the small village of
Newry would still benefit from the previous and lingering successes of the Abney
textile industry. In the mid 1940's, Abney Mills began to spend many
thousands of dollars to renovate and upgrade the entire village of Newry. All
necessary repairs to the village domiciles were effected with new Paint jobs
inside and out. Two complete bathrooms were installed in each house, and several
new brick duplex houses were built with others being remodeled. Sidewalks were
constructed, and all roads were upgraded with paving, curbing and drainage.
Suffice it to say that the entire infrastructure and living conditions of
Newry Village improved immensely in the '40's and '50's.
With this vast improvement of the village of Newry came more expenditures to
increase production within the plant. Due to foreign imports and the highly
competitive nature of the textile industry, Abney began revamping each
department in the plant and replacing outmoded machinery. With the "Fifties"
drawing to a close, Abney Management chose to sell the mill village in 1959. To
this end were several contributing factors. The labor and material to maintain
approximately one hundred twenty village houses were becoming progressively
expensive. Also, the village responsibility having been removed, all energy and
effort could be redirected toward the productivity and profitability of the
manufacturing process. The sale of the village would as well provide a ready
source of capital for the further modernization of the machinery. The disposing
of mill villages by owner textile companies seemed to be a trend in the industry
throughout the South.
In the hectic decade of the "Sixties", the textile industry was beset with OSHA
regulations, civil rights laws, and environmental clean-up mandates. These new
laws and regulations seemed to foretell the demise of all the old four-story,
smokestack textile mills throughout the country. Not being very adaptive to the
modern requirement of these federal laws, most of these mills were without
sufficient cash flow to comply with the new laws and realize a reasonable profit
expectation at the same time. In order to accommodate federal regulations, many
plants, such as the one at Newry, effected expenditures of monies dedicated only
to a lost cause.
In the early 1970's, with inflation plaguing the nation and interest rates
bordering on twenty per cent, industry was reluctant to borrow money for
investment. The prevailing doubt was whether or not a business could realize a
profit large enough to pay interest on money borrowed. Consequently, the owners
of Abney Mills decided to close the Courtenay Plant in May, 1975, and only four
years later, the remaining eight plants of the Abney chain were closed. But
there existed a greater ramification in the closings of these plants---a bell
had tolled, signifying the end of a way of life for hundreds of thousands of
textile workers throughout the South. Separated only by distance, every mill
village of the past had merged with the other to form an entity, a common
persona, never again to unfold the joyous experience shared in the textile
community by so many generations of working people and dedicated family.
o----------o
Newry, South Carolina August 10, 1975
Christmas has passed again and now we are launched by "Father Time" into what we
term as a "new year." Of course, the year is not new; it is only a copy of the
last one, with many of the happenings reoccurring and a few different events
or experiences crowding in to find their niche amongst the routine and
repetitiousness of being.
If one has life, it is comprised of all the ingredients of joy, sorrow, love,
hate, war, peace, trouble, happiness, success, failure, and much more. The
dilemma mankind faces is that he is incapable of doing much about the occurrence
of challenges. Individuals express sympathy verbally and by writing and many, I
am sure, are sincere, but they cannot really, know the extent of hurting until
they experience the same hurt.
When the word came to us, from higher officials, that our plant was being closed
and you said to me that you knew just how we felt, you were sincere because you
had already experienced the same thing. Employees hear of closings elsewhere but
they can never become completely prepared for it, even if they have the feeling
that one day it will also happen to them.
For some time I had a hunch that the closing was inevitable, not just because of
our company's red ink, but because of the anemic condition of the textile
industry everywhere. Only the strongest would survive and then their time would
also come, even if it came some years later. There are many reasons it happened
and I will not mention them here. Some are factual, others would be debatable. I
have experienced the subtle changes happening over the years that became endemic
in the entire industry.
The news came to us rather suddenly, though when it did come, the laying off was
piece-meal eliminating some within a week, usually the ones not directly related
to the fazing out of production already in process. I was not surprised,
however, as I had a subtle hint that the closing was imminent. I had noticed
that for at least a year or more that any request of needed repairs was being
ignored and that we were not able to improve anything within or without the
plant.
Up front I asked a vice president, whom I had known for many years, "if anyone
at headquarters cared anything about this plant", and I got a flat out answer,
and it was a terse "No". I knew then but I haven't mentioned it until this very
writing, that we were on the verge of becoming a non-entity.
Naturally, it was the responsibility of the local management to break the news
to the employees and as personnel manager, I had a major part in the face to
face contact with all employees except the superintendent.
The news was accepted in various ways. The employees, whom I call transients,
took it calmly. It was a free ticket to the unemployment office to draw their
compensation again. To fifteen or twenty approaching retirement age (60 or
over) it was sad and brought tears to many eyes, not as much because of loss of
job, but most had been there many years and were very sentimental. Now to the
175 local people from 25 to 60 it was more traumatic. This was most obvious in
regard to those past 45 and especially in the group from the mid 50's to 60. The
females became teary eyed and the males looked sad.
Most of the employees worked at their regular jobs and were separated as their
respective departments ran out the stock that was in process at the time the
news was received. We had a few employees who went to other textile plants early
on after the news came, but as I remember, only one employee quit outright who
was eligible to draw an extra check on the Fourth of July. His quitting
disqualified him for this privilege.
The moment of truth hit me the hardest when the separations came to my office en
masse, after the stoppage of entire departments. Sadness prevailed but not one
pushed the panic button. Many of the employees would discuss their personal
problems with me when they came by to check out their status and benefits. Some
would be concerned about the village utilities and sometimes real family and
personal problems which seemed to them to be made much worse because of lack of
employment. They were rightly concerned about these things. I would tell them
that this was not the end of the world, nor their respective lives, and that
things, perhaps, would get worse for awhile and then life would gradually get
better and all of us would adjust to a different existence. I did not really
know that this would happen but I believed it anyway. You know this experience
was almost similar to the death of a bread winner in a family, or a surprise
divorce. Depression and helplessness prevailed for awhile but then the guts of
determination took over and people, especially the females, suddenly got up from
their "pity party" and went out and got jobs other places and drug their
sweethearts and husbands with them. At this juncture I noticed that our Main
Street had metamorphosed into a highway that carried people to work from Newry
to various plants further away. Our village had almost overnight seemed to
change from a people who walked to work to a people who drove 10, 25, and 35
miles to their work place each day, and as before, this gradually became the
norm.
People can do what they can't do when finally despair and need drives them to
it. Our people overcame.
Finally the machinery of paperwork and record keeping drew to an end. There were
only four employees left. I who now wore many hats, and three maintenance men.
The maintenance men still had chores to do as the company could not suddenly or
legally separate themselves from the responsibility of the village utilities,
i.e. water, sewer, and electricity. All four of us were responsible for the
security. I was responsible for collecting power and water bills and dispatching
all cash to the main offices. I also was responsible for care of and security of
materials that could be transferred to other plants in our chain that were still
operating. There were thousands of dollars of useful material still here. I
notified management what was available. They in turn would send a list to each
plant and they would have their trucks and men here at a given time to load it
and transport it to the other plant. This took three or four months.
As activities slowed down" I began to have more time to observe and reflect on
my surroundings. The changes were gradual but when one, in retrospect, begins to
focus on the changes, they seem sudden. Some of the things I observed are
related below. The quietness and the lack of the hurley burley of activity were
dominant. The rats were gone. Most of the English sparrows and starlings were
gone also. The pigeons were still high on top of the bell tower, but they were
only boarding there. Like the doves they flew off to the farmers fields to feed.
Two lovely bluebirds set up housekeeping in the end of a three-inch pipe, ten
feet off the ground between my office and the plant. I watched them rear their
two siblings and leave. A heavy bodied hawk, not the largest, but large, would
come and sit atop a light post and survey the yard below. At that point he was
the master of everything that crept below and he knew it. I had never seen
bluebirds and hawks in the mill yard before. They left one day and never
returned, as I was to do soon.
The head race would flow no longer and the tail race had no more to drink. The
fish were waning too, you could hardly catch one anymore. Change had destroyed
the past, and the present will likewise meet the same fate and what was once
great will become small, and time will have her say.
Your Partner in Change, John Gaillard
o----------o
Office of President and Treasurer
The Courtenay Manufacturing Co.
Newry, SC, 10-Oct-1902
To the stockholders:
I am in my tenth year of service with the Company, having come to this remote
and isolated locality in Apr-1893. The forest growth had to be cleared to
locate the mill buildings, village and cotton warehouses. Since then I have
given my continuous personal attention to the building, equipment and extension
of the property, and to its finances. The original plant of 10,000 spindles and
860 looms has since grown to 19,440 spindles and 635 looms. Its capital has
increased from $ 150,000 to $ 300,000. The present cost of spindle is $ 15.00,
and there is not one cent of debt on the plant.
Where a dozen people once lived, over one thousand now reside. The cottages for
our operatives are of superior character - lathed, plastered, painted, inside
and out, and by constant attention are kept in perfect condition. A sewerage
system, operated by gravity from a reservoir on a hill top, keeps it, the
cleanest of mill villages, and as well, the best possible in fire protection.
The healthfulness of Newry is proverbial, and in every respect it is a desirable
cotton mill property.
Under the Company's By-Laws it has not been possible for me to be absent for
more than a few days at a time during these ten years. I may be obliged to have
a vacation in the coming spring. To arrange for my absence a slight change in
the By-Laws is necessary, and this has to be done by the Stockholders
themselves. No extra expense attaches to this change.
I therefore enclose a printed form for the change of By-Laws, and a special form
of Proxy to carry it into execution, and would be pleased to have an affirmative
response from every Shareholder.
Respectfully, William A Courtenay, President and Treasurer
o----------o
THE GRAVEYARD HILL
By J.L. Gaillard
On the Abney Mill property at Newry there are three old graveyards. Two of these
are family burial plots and the other a community cemetery established sometime
around 1895 for the employees of Courtenay Mill and their families. This
cemetery has not been used in many years; the most recent marker being dated
1927, and to the best of my knowledge it has not been used since.
----------
NOTE: Cemeteries found by Paul Kankula & Gary Flynn of the Oconee County GenWeb
Tombstone Inscription Project:
1.) C020 God's Acre / Graveyard Hill (Newry community cemetery)
2.) C210 Catherine Whitmire (1 grave moved from Newry ball park area due to
construction of Lake Keowee))
3.) C137 Newry Gardens / Courtenay Memorial (Abney Mill employee cemetery)
4.) C211 Unknown Name-(211) (4 adult graves moved from Abney Mill area due to
construction of Lake Keowee)
----------
When I was a child this was known by parents and children alike as "The
Graveyard Hill." All of the older employees of Courtenay Mill will vividly
remember this, and others Who have gone to the various Abney Plants from this
community will also recall memories of those days. I can remember many times
asking my mother permission to go over on "The Graveyard Hill" to play cowboy or
just to romp and explore as children are apt to do. This general vicinity also
comprised a large wooded area and a vast meadow known as "The Pasture Hill"
Which was also used as a golf course where the mill officials and their friends
knocked cheap golf balls with old type wooden shaft clubs. We children never
played in the graveyard but sometimes we would go inside the burial area to read
the inscriptions on the tombstones. Incidentally, I still like to visit old
cemeteries for the same purpose. I sometimes wonder who these people are, what
their likes and interests were and what great revelations of life they could
impart to one if this great chasm could be bridged.
When Mr. Clyde Cole, photographer for Quills magazine, called and asked if, I
would accompany him to this cemetery, I naturally agreed since I knew he would
never find it alone. After awhile, Clyde arrived and in a short time we began
our journey. The graveyard is not too distant from the village but as the name
our forefathers gave it implies, it is atop a quite steep hill. The trail
leading there has grown steeper over the years, So Clyde and I elected to
exercise wisdom instead of leg muscles and ride around the "River Road" a way,
and then walk the more distant but less inclined saw mill road that winds ifs
leisurely way upward to the cemetery.
It was a normal, humid, hot morning in July with the small talk of insects and
birds, ever prevalent at this time of year. Slightly intruding on our thoughts,
like background music being piped from some distant place. I could feel small
beads of perspiration on my lip and forehead and I casually glanced at Clyde to
see it he, too, was being affected so soon. He was, but I made no comment. The
road rose gradually up the hill being lined on each side with lovely pines and
other trees common to our area. Clyde remarked how nice it would be to live in a
place like this, everything seemed so peaceful and serene. A short distance over
the hill a hound pursued a rabbit that was unknowingly coming our way. As we
were very quiet, as I always like to be when I am in the fields or woods, the
hare nor the hound paid the least attention to us. We looked backwards along the
way we had come and saw the hare cross in a leisurely sort of way. Shortly the
hound crossed, too, with his deep resonant voice echoing across the valley. He,
too, was taking his own good time as if the rules of this game had been
predetermined as to pace and distance and what the ultimate outcome would be.
Sometimes it seems this way with animals, but the thought ironically occurred to
me that we humans were always rushing to the graveyard.
We stopped occasionally to remark to each other on the various items we noted
along the way. The tracks of a vehicle that had been by long before, the almost
obliterated footprint of some other sojourner who previously had passed this
way, and of course, we had to dispense with the common conversation of two
people who like to reminisce.
Upon our arrival at our destination I was much surprised that I could not walk
directly to the place. The hands of time had been busy working while I slept.
Where violets and daffodils once grew, pine trees, wild shrubs, and other
vegetation had taken full sway. They grew at random, not honoring even one
sacred spot. Even the tombstones were hard to find, but we managed. We moved
from grave to grave reading each inscription, commenting on names and ages. Many
of the family names were familiar to me, but of course I knew none of the people
personally, since most had died before I was born. The one thing that we
particular1y noted was the high mortality rate of infants and very young
children. In fact, a most startling percentage, perhaps three out of four of the
graves belonged to children in the pre-school or early school ages. We thought
this most horrifying, but Clyde did comment that a thing like this most likely
was accepted with some expectancy in those days.
We ambled around awhile. Meantime, Clyde was making photographs here and there
and commenting on points of interest concerning each grave. Soon he had seen
enough. As we were leaving, I took one backward glance and immediately thought
what a pity that no one seems to care for the condition of this old graveyard,
and for some reason, perhaps because of a deep sense of guilt within me, I did
not mention this to Clyde. Then the thought came to me, why could not people
everywhere adopt a grave to tend where it was obvious that no one else could? I
am sure that it would be a most gratifying avocation. Yet the preacher said long
ago in Ecclesiastics 9-5, these words, "For the living know that they shall die
but the dead know not anything neither have they anymore a reward; for the
memory of them is forgotten."
o----------o
TOMBSTONE TRANSCRIPTION NOTES:
------------------------------
a. = age at death
b. = date-of-birth
d. = date-of-death
h. = husband
m. = married
p. = parents
w. = wife
(20-30) graves marked with field stones
ANDERSON, Ernie, b. 25-dec-1912, d. 28-sep-1913, p. c.l. & a.e. anderson
ANDERSON, Hubert, b. 7-oct-1910, d. 23-jan-1912, p. c.l. & a.e. anderson
ANDERSON, John O., b. 22-oct-1899, d. 2-apr-1900, p. g.m. & lula j. anderson
HAYNES, Ruth V., d. 3-nov-1925, p. j.g. & lula hayes
McENTIRE, Bertha May, b. 10-oct-1896, d. 9-jul-1898, p. t.m. & nora mcentire
MOODY, Rosette, d. 22-feb-1904, p. m.e. & m.l. moody
NICHOLSON, Infant Daughter, d. 30-jan-1907, p. w.r. & si nicholson
NICHOLSON, Johnie, d. 28-nov-1902, p. w.r. & si nicholson
NICHOLSON, Ollie, b. 14-oct-1903, d. 28-feb-1904, daughter of w.r. & s.i.
nicholson
SOBBELIS, Vera, b. 9-nov-1904, d. 5-feb-1905
SOUTHERLAND, Chas, b. 14-aug-1897, d. 26-jun-1898, p. j.e. & d.e. southerland
TIMMERMAN, Infant Son, d. 13-mar-1910, p. e. & l.m. timmerman